


Perspicacious

by Reiya_Inc



Category: King Arthur (2004)
Genre: Fluff, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-28
Updated: 2013-01-28
Packaged: 2017-11-27 06:20:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/658872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reiya_Inc/pseuds/Reiya_Inc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's rather difficult to stop looking at someone when you have decided not too. Lighthearted fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Unum

Rain fell softly to the ground, attempting to lull Galahad to sleep, but failing miserably. It had been drizzling like this, off and on, all day. But that didn't bother him as much as other things. The young knight glanced at the still figures around him. They all seemed to be sleeping just fine. His eyes rested upon the man next to him.

Gawain was leaning against a tree, arms folded, head lowered, and fast asleep Galahad looked away, he was going to have to stop this habit of staring at him. And he was going to have to stop thinking about him as well. He was definitely going to have to stop thinking about the way he walked, and the way he laughed, and all the little things that made it near impossible for him not to stare.

Last night was bad enough, without having to worry about his next mistake. He had been stealing glances during dinner at the older knight, when Tristan caught him. But Tristan just smiled amusedly and went back to eating.

It's rather difficult to stop looking at something when you have decided not to. It's like your body purposefully goes against your mind. Galahad popped his neck and set about studying the glowing embers from the fire. He made it six seconds before looking back at Gawain.

"What is it?", he whispered, nearly making Galahad jump.

"What?"

Gawain raised his head, "Is something wrong?"

"No."

"You're a terrible liar."

Galahad suddenly noticed how close he was to the older man. How his blonde hair spilled over his shoulders, and how his blue eyes were still waiting for a reply.

"I...", he fumbled for an excuse, but Gawain's lips found his before he could come up with one.

Galahad returned the kiss, bringing his hands up to bury them in Gawain's hair. Galahad parted his lips, allowing Gawain to slip his tongue in. The younger knight momentarily fought for dominance, before letting him take control. The two pulled away, winded, from the exchange.

"How'd you know?", Galahad's fingers were still entwined with Gawain's hair.

"Besides the constant ogling?"

"I wasn't ogling!"

"Sure you weren't. I wondered why I felt like I was being watched.", Gawain smirked while Galahad looked embarrassed.

Gawain covered his lips with his own before he could respond. He pulled off his shirt and helped Galahad remove his. Galahad ran his fingers up his spine, and across every scar on Gawain's back. He let out a small moan as Gawain struggled with his belt. The rain had stopped, and they separated briefly to move further away from camp.

The knights left camp the next morning, rested up but curious as to why Galahad was having so much trouble riding his horse.


	2. Duo

There was always a small celebration after each battle, minding that no one was seriously wounded. They'd grin at each other and sheath their weapons, glad to see that they survived. Lancelot and Tristan would bet on who between them had the most kills, and usually, an aggravated Lancelot would be handing over the money. But after they were through trading insults and had settled into camp, the knights would subtly disperse.

Arthur headed toward a nearby stream. He knelt and dipped his hands in the cool waters, washing small cuts on his knuckles. Everyone attended their wounds separately; it was an intimate affair between them and the enemy that had left its mark. When the crimson left his hands, Arthur stood to return to camp. His eyes caught a sliver of movement; hidden amidst the trees' shadows, Tristan had finished cleansing his wounds.

Arthur was slightly surprised that he hadn't noticed the other man sooner, or that Tristan chose to wash so close to him. He held Arthur's gaze briefly before returning to camp. Nothing had been said between them, but words weren't necessarily needed. Arthur walked back to camp and took a seat a little further from the fire than the others.

He always kept just enough distance. He might smile at their jokes, but he would never join in. He couldn't; he had to lead them into battle. He had to gamble with their lives whenever they followed him. He would never join in the pranks or stories they told. He was a leader, and that was to be alone. The men respected the distance he kept and never breached it, except for Lancelot.

Lancelot could see the side of him that he kept so fiercely guarded. He could see the doubt that plagued him. It was his fault that Lancelot had gotten so close. He was the only knight that Arthur would share his mind with. When he talked with him, he didn't have to distance himself, he wasn't alone. But Lancelot was also a knight, and the knights would always have their thoughts and dreams that they didn't share with their commander.

Arthur thought back to Tristan, who looked at him so openly. His eyes didn't hold any shadows. Arthur realized that there were no secrets between him and Tristan. Whatever questions he asked, Tristan had answered honestly. No one wanted to admit weakness, so they bandaged their injuries in solitude. But Tristan had let him see the blood being washed from his hands. He hid nothing, there was no distance between them.

XxXxXxXx

Gawain followed Galahad as he left camp, taking care not to be noticed by the others. Galahad stopped at a stream and was busy removing his armor. Gawain didn't have any injuries so he helped Galahad. He dipped a rag in the stream and softly wiped the dried blood from the brunette's shoulder blade. The cut wasn't too deep and a scab was already beginning to crust over. But, he didn't like cleaning blood off Galahad. He hated it every time a Woad marred the younger knight's flesh.

"How's it feel?"

"Stings a little, but it's fine now.", Galahad smiled.

"Good.", Gawain pulled him close and kissed him.

XxXxXxXx

Bors was laughing and Dagonet grinned at the joke Lancelot told. Arthur was on the other side of the fire, but Lancelot swore he saw a smile on his face. Even Tristan seemed amused. On nights like these the knights would tell stories and sharpen their blades, enjoying a small bit of peace after a hard day's work. Glancing around the group, he took in all their faces, but two were missing.

"Where's Gawain and Galahad?", he asked.

"They've disappeared a lot lately. If I didn't know better, I'd say they were lovers." Bors laughed. Then his words sunk in.

An awkward silence descended upon the camp.


	3. Tria

Lancelot cursed under his breath. This is the last time he would ever ride behind Gawain and Galahad. The two thought he was out of earshot, and they had been talking back and forth for an hour. Most of the conversation Lancelot could have done without. He considered holding this over their heads, but Gawain would probably kill him and say something awful about him at his burial.

He wanted to switch places with one of the other knights. Preferably Tristan, so he could be closer to Arthur. So he could see that faint smile in his leader's eyes as he looked over the rolling hills. He was always a hair's breadth away from telling him how he felt, and he was fairly sure it was the same for Arthur. There were always looks between them that were held a little long, and it wasn't always accidental that their hands brushed against each other.

Lancelot had slowed some to allow more distance between him and the two. Though, he would only admit it to himself, Lancelot was slightly envious of them. He wanted to talk with Arthur as they did with each other; he wanted to sneak away with him for hours on end. But for he most part, he wanted to sink his lips into Arthur's and ravage him like a wolf.

XxXxXx

This was it. Lancelot had secured a position next to the target. In a few moments he would make his move. The others were distracted by eating, and he was close enough to Arthur that they probably wouldn't catch what he said. Now all he needed was to tell Arthur quickly, so the others didn't notice. And if they had to leave camp to finish the conversation, so be it. It wasn't unusual for them to discuss things outside of camp. But what should he say? This would be so much easier if he was a barmaid. Then he could just say something like, "I want to bear your children."

Arthur turned his head, a questioning look on his face. To his horror, Lancelot realized he had said it out loud.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing. I didn't say anything."

"Are you sure?" Arthur still looked suspicious.

"Well... no, but I didn't mean to say that..."

"Then what did you mean to say?" Arthur had a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Lancelot grabbed the back of Arthur's head and drew him into a kiss. He felt Arthur relax against his lips, and smiled. They pulled apart, with Lancelot muttering that they'd finish this later, and went back to their meal.

Bors nudged Tristan with his elbow.

"Did they just...?", he trailed off, hoping he wasn't imagining things.

Tristan shook his head, "I didn't see anything, and if you don't want Lancelot to kill you, then you didn't either."


End file.
